by Tracy Tappan
In true Hadley-style, she’d made today’s game more interesting by requiring the players to work in pairs, tied together at the waist by a three-foot-long cord. The couples’ game had gone off first, and since he wasn’t in a couple… God, but it’d been funny to watch that fierce competition.
The Arc-Beth team had been one of the first to get “killed,” surprising, considering Arc was a fighter supreme. Arc had later redeemed himself by winning the warrior bout with his brother, Thomal. But Beth hadn’t been able to do much more than go Gerber baby face whenever a rival team had borne down on her. Arc had finally picked her up and bodily hauled her around the course, but that had saved them only minutes. Next, the non-warrior couples had been picked off like sick gazelles, leaving the field open for an intense battle for the top three positions.
Third place had eventually gone to Dev-Marissa. They’d been a strong team the whole way, but were thwarted in the end because their feet got tangled and Dev tripped. The trip itself hadn’t done them in. No, Dev had been back on his feet in an instant. It was just that on the way down he’d split his pants, and Marissa’s subsequent laughing fit had turned the two into a pair of sitting ducks. Second place went to Jaċken-Tonĩ—go, sis!—a major upset for the first place spot, which was nabbed by Chelsea Bryant and Gábor Pavenic.
“Everyone has to go at least once,” Hadley interrupted his thoughts, plunking the vest over his head and belting it in place. “Don’t worry, it’s easy.” She smiled at him, and even though he wasn’t interested in her at all, a gulp built in his throat. Hadley had one of those smiles that lit up her whole face…and an essence about her that invariably jerked a knot tight in his belly. No wonder Thomal was absolutely noodle for her. “Just point your laser gun at anything that moves and squeeze the trigger.”
Alex glanced over at the entrance to the course, watching the other players gear up. They were the wild Stânga Town kids. He grimaced. Even though he’d recently penetrated their tight inner sanctum and befriended a few, he was still going to get creamed. “You do know that I’m a pacifist, don’t you?”
“Ah, great,” Hadley reached out and snagged a passerby, “a partner.”
He blinked stupidly at the woman Hadley strapped to him. “Luvera,” he said.
Luvera looked at him, and her face went up in flames. “Oh, n-no. I can’t play. I’m terrible at these kinds of games.”
“Nonsense.” Hadley tugged the two of them out of the viewing area. Event planner skills must include an expertise at ignoring protests. “Okay, then,” she nudged them onto the course, “have fun.”
The Stânga Town kids surged around them, claiming ground, taking up defensive positions. Alex squinted his eyes against the gloom. Wow. The laser tag course was super neat, built in a dark, creepy part of the cave previously thought of as unusable space because of its shelves of protruding rock, dripping stalactites, and lumpy stacks of boulders. It was perfect for a game of chase-and-kill.
He laughed, kind of giggled, actually. “This might be fun, Luvera.” He looked down at the weapon in his hand. “First, we need to figure out how to use—”
A whistle blew, and the course erupted in rebel yells, red flashes of light suddenly streaking everywhere.
“Holy mackerel!” Alex scrunched his head into his shoulders like a turtle.
With a soft cry, Luvera ducked, her arms over her head.
He stared at her for a moment, then laughed at the ridiculousness of that against lasers. “Come on! We gotta get moving.” He grabbed Luvera’s hand and pulled her into a run, sweeping his gun around and pulling the trigger over and over. “Shoot your gun!”
She did, but that earned her return fire. “Yikes! We need to hide!” Tugging her hand out of his, she took off at a faster run.
Hide!? That seemed awfully wimpy, even for him. He stopped running to argue. “But—” The short rope tethering them together twanged taut, then yanked him off his feet and flung him at her. He caught only the briefest glimpse of Luvera’s oh-no widened eyes before he crashed into her with a hard clacking together of their plastic vests. He knocked her to the cave floor, the two of them landing with a simultaneous umph of expelled breath.
Rollicking laughter erupted from the viewing area.
Alex blew out his cheeks. Yes, well…he supposed it was only fair that he should be the laugh-ee after all of his own amusement at others’ expense. He glanced down between them as their vests let out a dying ba-zuzz whine. “Bummer, I think we broke them.”
“I don’t think I’m, um…” Luvera knitted her brow at him. “I was involved in art and theatre in school. No sports. You?”
“Music, film making, and…” He pursed his lips. “Dungeons and Dragons.”
She paused, then laughed, her silver eyes brightening and twinkling. “What a pair.”
His heart went thump-bump. Damn, but Hadley had nothing on this girl’s smile. Luvera’s laughter sang through his blood like a drug, almost making—
“Watch out!” she yelled.
A Stânga Towner was jumping over the top of them.
Alex ducked his head to avoid getting clobbered by a pair of boots, stealing a whiff of Luvera’s scent. She smelled like a daisy, fresh and clean and innocent. He could’ve laid on top of her for hours, but he forced his head back up. “Maybe we should…take cover.” Yes, yes, that sounded much better than hiding. He pushed himself to his feet, drawing Luvera up with him, and took off for a small hillock of cave rock.
“Look.” Luvera indicated the whirling shadows of bodies they were dashing through. “We’re so obviously nerdy that we’re invisible to the others.”
Hauling her around the boulder, he pulled her into a crouch next to him. “I take exception to the word nerd.” He held his gun muzzle up in a ready position, like he’d seen James Bond do in the movies.
“Right.” She snorted. “I dress like a frump, and you’re a…like, a Yeti.”
He swung his head around and frowned at her. “Damnit, Luvera, I told you I didn’t mean it that way.” Jesus, the woman had a memory like a steel trap. He’d implied her clothes were less than fashionable three months ago. “I was just saying that”—he snapped his chin down—“I’m a what?”
She crinkled her nose. “A Yeti. You know, a very hairy creature.” She looked pointedly at the chest hair showing at the opening of his plaid shirt.
He gaped at her. She had to be kidding. Lowering his gun, he turned on the balls of his feet to face her fully. “I’m incredibly not hairy for a guy, okay?” All the way through his sophomore year of college, his chest had been baby-butt smooth, and these days…well, no woman was at risk for getting her fingers tangled, he’d just put it that way.
She shrugged. “You are compared to a Vârcolac.”
He opened his mouth, then closed it.
She ducked her head, but not before he caught the sparkle in her eyes.
Well, I’ll be damned. She was messing with him. He exhaled a soft laugh. “Been waiting awhile to tell me that, have you?”
A smile formed slowly on her mouth, the expression knocking his heart against his ribs. She pulled off her vest and peered down at the long fissure marring the plastic. “We probably shouldn’t play anymore, you know, since we can’t be officially killed.”
He took off his own vest, keeping his eyes trained on her all the while, and tossed it aside. He couldn’t agree more. They should head over to Garwald’s Pub instead, have a drink, and discuss this chest hair issue further. Maybe if she knew how soft his hair was, she might be willing to—
Luvera whammed into him as a Stânga Town kid careened around their boulder and plowed into her.
“Good heavens!” Luvera rolled off Alex and threw up her hands. “Don’t shoot! We’re wussies!”
Oh, for the love of… With a grunt, Alex grabbed her under the arm, pulled her up, and towed her at a run to another part of the cave. “I took exception to the term nerd and you think I’m going to be just right as rain with wussy?”
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“Anybody who says right as rain probably should be. Hey!” she pointed, “head over there!” She steered him to a crevice in the cave wall, crammed herself into it, then pulled him in with her.
Whoa.
They both froze, eyes widening on each other.
They were squashed together from knees to chest, pressed so close that…he could feel…every inch of her. He inhaled slowly, his heart beginning to thunder, heat invading his crotch. Her baggy clothing had left him utterly unprepared for just how ripe and firm her body was, how totally stacked.
“A-Alex,” she said haltingly, her hands settling on his upper chest. “Are you wearing the mud?”
“Of course.” As a Dragon male with Fey bloodlines, his scent was exceptionally strong to the unmated female Vârcolac. He was strictly forbidden to leave his room without a blob of scent-cutting mud pasted behind each ear. Otherwise, a Ţărână-wide unmated female orgasm attack was apparently a genuine possibility.
“I think it might’ve come off.” Her fingers kneaded his chest like a kitten’s. “You smell…you smell so…” The sloe-eyed look she gave him tightened his burning loins on a painful rush of lust.
He bit back a moan as he imagined what he’d be doing right now if they were both naked; how he’d take her by the buttocks and lift her off the ground, urge her to wrap her legs around his waist, then shove his member into her tight heat, making up for all the time they’d wasted by— Uh oh. Now he had a…
Luvera squirmed against his hips, twin lines of confusion appearing between her brows. “What’s that?”
“That”—Jesus God—“would happen to be my penis. Please, don’t move.”
Her eyelashes fluttered. “But…what’s it doing?”
Oh, this conversation was just a bucket of fun. “Noticing how nice your boobs are. I think maybe we should get out of this crevice.”
Her eyes went wide, all large, black pupils. “Wow, I didn’t know a…you know could get so…so big.” She wiggled again.
A groan strained past his lips. “Luvera, it’s not such a good idea for you to keep moving.” He grabbed her hips to make sure she stayed still. “And I’ll slip you twenty bucks later for that ‘big’ comment.”
Her confused expression returned, and he almost groaned again. How could a woman look so cute and way-out sexy all at the same moment. Carefully, he unwedged himself from the crevice, really needing some relief from her nearness before he said something like, “So who’s the wussy, now, eh, babe?” or anything equally boneheaded.
He helped her out, too, just as a whistle blew and the overhead lights flared on.
She shaded her eyes, blinking against the glare, her cheeks a lovely shade of rose. “Game over, I guess.”
“It would seem so.” He untucked his shirt to hide his boner, then plugged his hands into his pockets when it occurred to him that he’d just missed a perfect opportunity to kiss her. Smooth move, dip-stick. One hundred points goes to Alexander Parthen for proving he’s a complete goober. And his prize? An extra-painful case of blue balls, and, oh, let’s just throw in a dying out of the Parthen name, too. Because he was such a drooling pinhead.
“Oh, hey, Alex! There you are.” Hadley strode up to him, a clipboard tucked into the crook of her arm. “Did you guys have fun?”
The two of them spluttered into some um…well nonsensical babble that Hadley used her event planner superpowers to ignore, of course.
“Great!” she beamed. “I wanted to let you know that your band goes on in fifteen, Alex, okay? You should probably get ready.”
Luvera blinked at him. “What band?”
Chapter Twenty-four
Luvera sat in front of her vanity mirror and brushed her hair, her strokes slow through the crackling strands, her mind’s eye dreamily conjuring the image of tonight’s scene as if it was happening right in front of her all over again: the stage in the middle of the large field of Astro Turf with a drum set, keyboard, and electric guitar speakers on it, the bleachers overflowing with people, the hubbub of so many excited voices nearly vibrating the air.
She’d been sitting in the stands with her friends, her hands clenched in her lap, never so nervous and excited in her life. She’d just about levitated out of her seat when the houselights had dimmed dramatically and a spotlight zeroed in on Hadley, center stage and speaking into a microphone.
A special treat for you tonight, folks… Ţărână’s new rock band making its debut performance…
The murmuring had grown louder when four men stepped onto the shadowy field and walked toward the stage.
Then dead silence.
Alex Parthen himself had been the first shock. The geeky computer persona had disappeared, and a rock ’n’ roll heartthrob had been born. Gone were the Dockers, plaid shirt, and gold-rimmed glasses, and in their place he was wearing stone-washed jeans, tennis shoes, and a tie-dye T-shirt, an electric guitar strapped across his shoulder. His hair had been different, too, slightly mussed, the reddish-blond strands tumbled forward over his brow. Luvera’s belly had performed a perfect ten triple Axel over how handsome and sexy he was.
Shock number two had been Alex’s band mates. They were all Stânga towners. Not a one should’ve dared to hobnob with a Royal Fey such as Alex Parthen. At least not according to the ancient Vârcolac hierarchical caste system, where those of “genetically superior bloodlines” roosted supremely at the tip-top and all others wallowed somewhere beneath. To those who still adhered to this Vârcolac pecking order—her mother being the Grand Poohbah of that group—the Stânga Town kids, the last-born and genetically weakest, were little better than pond scum. Luvera didn’t agree with this archaic code of Vârcolac culture. It was a throwback to the old days of aristocracy and peasants, and it had no place in modern society. Watching Alex break this code had secured him a place in her heart for all time.
Something she hoped to tell—
Luvera whirled around at the sound of her window swishing open, her hand tightening around her brush as a dark-clothed man slipped silently inside her bedroom. “Shọn,” she gasped. “Stars in the sky, what are you doing here?”
“Haven’t seen you in a long time, Luvera. Months. Not since we—”
She made a shushing noise. “Be quiet! My mother is just down the hall.” And she couldn’t bear to hear him say kiss. “If she finds you here, she’ll kill me.”
He shrugged as if a tree stump cared more than he did. “If you don’t come to me, I gotta come to you.”
“No. You don’t. I told you that what we did was a mistake.” She glanced furtively at her bedroom door. “Please, go.”
His black eyes settled on her with that peculiar unmoving watchfulness of his. “You saying you didn’t like kissing me? ’Cause it seems to me that you did.”
She turned to set her brush on the vanity, angling her face aside to hide the sudden blush heating her cheeks.
“Naw,” he answered for her, “what you’re saying is you still have your heart set on Alex.” He leaned back against the windowsill, bracing his hands on either side of his hips, his legs sprawled out in a look of casual debauchery. “I was hanging out under the bleachers tonight, watching Alex’s band play. Damn, they only made it through one song. That’s messed up.”
Her mind called up the image again: Alex standing in front of the mic, the spotlight encasing him in a bubble of illumination, the light gleaming off the golden strands of his hair. He’d sung a rock ballad in a mesmerizingly deep voice, the tensile muscles in his forearm flexing rhythmically while he strummed his guitar. The unmated females in the audience had been utterly riveted, hardly breathing, all eyes pinned on him. As the last chord of the first song had died away, there was an astounded hush. Then something had just…snapped, and every unmated woman shrieked ecstatically and rushed the stage. Their reaction had been so unexpected that a few actually reached Alex and tore some material off his tie-dye shirt before Jaċken was able to fling his brother-in-law over his shoulder and take off for
safety, the other warriors leaping into crowd control.
“Not so good for you,” Shọn mused, “is it?”
“What do you mean by that?” Why did she even ask? She didn’t want to hear his answer.
“You saw the unmateds, Luvera. Something changed tonight. Alex is no longer Mister Untouchable Fey, but the hot guitar player every girl wants to get her hands on. Every girl.” He made a sound in his throat and shook his head. “If you had a slim chance at Alex before, you sure don’t have a hope in hell now.”
“Why, thank you,” she said through set teeth and a clamped jaw. “I didn’t realize I sat so far down on the desirable woman scale.” Tears soured her throat like bile. “Why do you even want me, Shọn?”
She expected him to say something like, “I already told you that I think you’re pretty,” not what he did say.
“We’re alike, Luvera, you and I. Both of us a couple of misfits.”
Her hands curled in on themselves, her fingers gouging her palms as a raw pain landed in her chest. She knew what Shọn was doing. Her logical mind told her that he was purposely shaking her confidence so that she’d turn to him in her need. But it didn’t matter what she knew. It worked all the same because…
Because it was the truth.
She was a misfit: an insignificant, unlovable oddball. Undeserving of her father’s love by virtue of her sex, certainly never good enough for her mother, regardless of her efforts. And then there was Dev, who was too busy being better than she was, off saving the world, to notice that his little sister was being crushed under the weight of her own nothingness. Shọn was right; being who she was, how could she possibly hope to stand out among the competition of every girl? In the back of her mind, she’d hoped that giving Alex an…an erection meant something. But, really, didn’t human males get erections easily, like, all by themselves in the shower from just washing and such? Truth was, she didn’t have a hope in hell.
She came shakily to her feet, her knees threatening not to hold her. “Why do you keep doing this to me?” She felt like a wet rag Shọn was wringing out. “Do you get a perverse pleasure from stealing my hope?”
